


Timeless

by strangesmallbard



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Gen, Halloween, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Little kid!Swan Queen, Magic, and Mayhem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangesmallbard/pseuds/strangesmallbard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets from that time Emma Swan and Regina Mills get accidentally turned into five year olds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From an on-going ficlet series posted on my tumblr.

"Alright! I finished the crown. Fit for a Queen!" Emma says. She staples the crown together; the garment made of construction paper, glitter, and craft jewels provided by Mary Margaret. She places it on Regina’s head, and tries to flatten her short curly hair so the crown settles comfortably on top. It mostly works, although a larger amount of hair on side of her head causes the crown to sit a bit lopsided.

Meanwhile Regina has been frowning the entire time. It’s not one of her sad frowns, those make Emma’s heart hurt and her tummy do strange turns. It’s not one of her angry frowns, which make Emma giggle and pull her hair and run away; only to hear her squeal of anger and the sound of steps running after her. It’s a very curious frown, and Emma playfully pulls on a lock of hair. This of course, causes a very brief angry frown.

Regina crosses her thin arms and looks down for a moment, her brows furrowed together in a way that makes Emma think she’s done something wrong. She considers the crown for a moment. Maybe one of the jewels is crooked. After all, Emma hasn’t been crafting for a very long time. Her last home didn’t really have craft materials. They sometimes had cardboard boxes, which Emma used to hide in when the adults were fighting.

She’s glad she doesn’t have to do that anymore. Mary-Margaret gives Emma an actual bed, and brushes her hair, and reads her bedtime stories. It’s almost like having parents; like the kids do in those tv-movies. She won’t admit it’s  _really_  wonderful, because tomorrow she could be gone. Off in another car to another life, hoping it’s the one she keeps.

Regina reaches up to touch her crown, and that’s when Emma remembers her final piece. She reaches behind her to grab the remains of cardboard used in a papertowl roll, now transformed into a beautiful scepter. She places it in Regina’s hand, who holds in carefully. Like she may break it, or she doesn’t really know what to do with it.

"What’s this for?" Regina asks.

"Magic, duh. You’re a sorceress queen!" Emma says with a grin. She thought that was really cool. Much better than the fairy princess Regina wanted to be yesterday.

Regina frowns even harder than possible. “No.” She says firmly and puts the scepter back in Emma’s hands before sitting on the ground and crossing her arms.

Emma groans and plops down next to her .

"Why not?" She retorts and puts the scepter back in Regina’s lap. Regina pushes it off and wraps her arms around her knees.

"I don’t want to be a magical queen." Regina mumbles into her knees. 

There’s something about the sadness that overcomes Regina’s features that stops Emma from bothering her more. Sometimes Regina gets that look, like the world is ending. It scares Emma, because it reminds her of how she felt when her last family gave her away. She guesses it’s because of Regina’s mom again. Regina’s mom sounds scary, like Emma’s foster mother two times ago, even if Regina says she loves her and it’s okay. Someone you don’t want to talk back to. And it would be  _awful_ if that foster mother was her actual mother. She was only there for two months before someone noticed bruises and got her sent back. (Although her last one gave her bruises too and no one really noticed.) 

She puts a hand on Regina’s hand and waits for the smaller fist unfurl and wrap around her hands. 

"Okay." She breathes. "You don’t got to be. You can be another kind of Queen." She says with a watery smile. 

Regina lifts her head and looks so very sad. “Mama says I’m to be Queen. But I don’t know if I want to be. But Mama would be very mad if I said I didn’t want to be.” She says quietly and looks at the discarded scepter.

Emma feels that turning in her stomach again. She doesn’t really know what that means, she didn’t think Queens really existed anymore, but she shifts closer and puts and arm around Regina’s shoulder, like she’s seen Mary-Margaret do. 

"You don’t gotta be Queen if you don’t want to be Queen, Regina. And this is make believe. You can be anything." There’s silence for a little while. The birds chirp all around them, and the sun is pleasantly warm on Emma’s back. She doesn’t think she’s been in a place so pretty. There wasn’t much nature in her other homes, much less nature she could explore all she wanted. Regina still has her head on her knees for a little, her face turned to the side, and staring at the world ahead of her. Emma squeezes her shoulders again in comfort. Her serious expression slowly lifts as she takes in Emma’s words, and as she finally lifts her head and faces Emma, a small smile overcomes her features, slowly blooming into a full one.

When Regina smiles, the turning in Emma’s stomach becomes more pleasant. The world seems to get a little brighter, and every sharp angle on Regina’s face melts into softness. Including her eyes, which turn from a chocolate color to a caramel color, and sparkle. She looks so very pretty, and Emma almost has to look away to blush.

"I want to be me!" She announces, and takes off her crown, settling it gently on the grass.

Emma laughs, not even caring about the discarded crown she worked on in favor of Regina’s pretty smile. “Okay! And I’ll be me too. We’ll be us. Not the fairy princess and the elf, or the sorceress queen and the knight.” 

Regina jumps up, and brushes grassy remains off her capris. She then wilts a little, tilting her head from side to side.

"How do you play make believe without playing make believe?" She asks. Emma gets up and shrugs, pushing grass off her pants as well.

"I dunno. Maybe we could just play tag?" Before she can come up with another idea, Regina grins cheekily and taps Emma on the arm. 

"You’re it!" She yells as she takes a head start, the bounce of brown curls the last thing Emma sees as she dashes between the trees. 

"You dumby head!" She calls after her friend. "That was mean!"

There’s a cackle from somewhere up ahead, and Emma darts forward to chase it, her blonde ringlets catching the wind behind her. She feels so very free.

 


	2. Tree Climbing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina decides to climb a tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from eshusplayground: More Regina climbing on things and making mischief.

Regina stares down the tree with narrowed eyes and total determination.

It’s much,  _much_  larger than her, yes, this is true. Most likely someone like Mary-Margaret will be very angry when she see her trying to climb it, but she has no magic, and never ever gets as mad as Mama does, so Regina doesn’t see this as  _so_  much of a concern. If Mama were here, she’d never get even the slightest chance. She’d be whisked away into lessons before the desire got a chance to manifest and tug at her heart, and even if they did, Mama would have found out. She’d have found out, and found a reason why Regina should never ever climb that tree. Maybe she’d break the tree, like she broke Regina’s favorite doll when she played with it instead of practicing her curtsies. Like she broke Regina’s arm when she accidentally met the scary lords and ladies with scabbed knees.

She pushes these thoughts away with ferocity. After all, Mama fixed her arm right up. And she’s not here. The tree is hers to climb, and hers alone. She has a basket with a story-book in it. The one about fairies with all the pictures. And she’ll pick the best looking apple, and she’ll sit on the tree, and wait for Emma to get back from her day with David. The sun will hit her back, and she’ll dream of days to come.

Besides the tree isn’t  _that_  big. And Emma Swan is a huge lier, she’s not  _that_  small. She scowls as remembers Emma resting her arm on Regina’s head and giggling,  _Yep, you are. You’re a little munchkin. And now you’re my headrest._   Regina had shook her head until the hand dropped before pushing Emma in the leaves and running away, Emma’s laughter following her, and her own small smile unable to be wiped from her lips.

Tall people are silly anyway. Or scary. Emma Swan is by far, the silliest person she’s ever encountered. (Not scary, however.) The only not silly (or scary) tall person Regina knows is her Daddy.

She misses her Daddy. The basket wilts in her hand, and she remembers him hoisting her up she can pick the very best apple.  _No_. She refuses to be sad today. Today she’ll think of how proud her Daddy would be to see her getting the apple all by herself. (Not Mama and her scary disappointed face. How her eyes look like the moon in winter. So very, very cold.)

She loops the basket on her elbow before beginning her journey. She’s climbed things before, but much smaller things. Like that “play structure” at the building where Henry has his lessons. Or the rocks in the woods. But never a tree. She can’t help the way her heart beats rapidly in fear, but also in excitement. She’s  _never_  done something so bold, so entirely risky. She imagines the scratches she could get from the bark, and hopes Mary Margaret won’t be  _too_  mad. So far, she’s been so kind. She even cuddles Regina at night, cuddles her whenever Regina is lonely and in need of one, really, and always-cuddles isn’t something Regina is used to. And she reads to Regina. And lets Regina wear pants. (She loves red capris with the jeweled apple on the side.) 

She fits her small feet in grooves along the bark. Just a little bit off the air–she exhales in wonder as her feet finally leave–she feels herself slipping down, and she gasps, holding tightly to the trunk. She furrows her brow and purses her lips. She will  _not_  give up. This is  _her_  tree. She tries again, and places her feet in two other grooves.

It takes many minutes of huffing and puffing and almost falling many times before Regina gets to the easier part; past the scary trunk and up the winding branches towards the red, red apples. Her legs feel like jelly on those sandwiches Mary Margaret packs for them, and she’s breathing heavily. But she’s smiling. She’s laughing as she hoists herself to the perfect branch for sitting. There’s a giddiness in her laughter; pure happiness that she could get used to.

She opens the book with trembling features, and begins to read. (She can read more than Emma, but she’s helping Mary Margaret teach Emma, and wants to have a head start so she can know the story before their bedtime.) She loses track of time in the words, in the lovely sway of the summer green leaves, in the way the sun peaks and shines through their little windows. She only stops to pick her apple, a beautiful one that almost causes her to fall from her spot. She curls as close as she can to the tree trunk, and bites into the apple with a satisfying  _crunch_  and goes back to her book.

She doesn’t look up until she hears a voice.

"Regina! Come on down! Someone’s gonna see, and you’re gonna get in lots of trouble!"

Regina peers down and there’s Emma, red-faced from a day of practicing her swordplay in the hot sun, her curls tied back, and head covered with a lidded hat. Regina grins and waves. 

"Nu-uh. I’m  _just_  fine, Emma. I’ll get down before anyone notices. I’m a master tree climber, of course.”

Emma frowns. “No you’re not!” 

"Am too!"

Emma throws her hands up. “Come on, I just wanna play with you.” She looks down then, almost shyly. Her hands come down to clasp behind her back. “I….missed you. Kinda. Whatever.” She mumbles and pushes her hat further down so it covers whatever facial expression she’s making.

There’s a wonderful warmth in Regina’s stomach to know that Emma  _missed_  her, but of course she won’t let Emma know.  _Yet_.

"Then come up here!" Regina calls down. "Or are you too  _scared?_  Is the _brave_  Emma Swan too scared to climb a measly  _tree_?”

Emma draws up to her full heigh and narrows her eyes. 

"Oh you’ll take that back, Shorty. You wait and see. I can  _totally_  climb trees.”

"Prove it, then!"

Emma braces herself and gives herself a running start, thinking she can just attach herself to the tree like a spider, but instead finds herself still with two feet on the ground, hugging the tree around the trunk. She grumbles and tries again, finding the same places as Regina did to put her feet. However, since Emma is bigger than Regina, it’s more of a struggle. She gets a few feet off the ground before her foot slips and down she goes, sprawling across the green grass.

Regina starts a laughing fit, and just as she begins to open her mouth to gloat, she notices that Emma hasn’t gotten up yet. In fact she’s clutching her leg and her face is contorted in pain.

Fear rushes through Regina, as well as acute panic, and she drops her book in her basket and begins to scramble down the tree, not caring that bark is getting caught in her skin as she inches carefully down the trunk. She doesn’t even remember that her basket is still hanging off a branch. She crouches beside Emma, and tentatively touches her hand.

"….Emma? Did you….do I-"

Emma shakes her head and cracks a smile.

"I’m okay. It just spooked me, and I hit the ground a little funny, that’s all. I’m just….really bad at climbing I guess." She frowns and stretches out her leg, moving it around a bit and apparently happy with how easily it’s moving.

"Yes, you  _are_.” Regina retorts. Her heart is still beating so fast, she would think Emma really is hurt. She wants to climb back up the tree again, and repeat this part of the afternoon. _  
_

"Well, _who_  told me to climb the tree?”

"Only because you were  _being_  an idiot! But…” She bites her lip and stares at Emma’s almost hurt leg. “I  _suppose_  you  _could_ say it’s good that you didn’t get hurt. I don’t want you to get yourself hurt. And….here it would have been my fault too.” She says, a little bit crestfallen.  _  
_

Emma rolls her eyes before squeezing her hand and she leans over to give Regina a hug. Her expression of pain gone, she says:

"Nope, not your fault. The tree just must not like me or something." She says, leaning back and tapping Regina on the nose. Her eyes then light up with realization, and she gives a scowling Regina a cheeky smile.

"Hey,  _now_  you’re down and we can play!” 

Regina rolls her eyes. Emma then leaps up and points towards the house.

"Wanna go back inside and play dress-up or something?"

Regina nods and as they walk to the house, she takes Emma’s hand and holds it tightly. They swing their arms together in the space between them the whole way back, both of them eventually growing matching smiles.


	3. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Regina go trick-or-treating with Henry.

Henry is sure this is the strangest Halloween he’s ever had.

He was looking forward to his moms–for the very first time–both taking him trick-or-treating, them all dressed as the Avengers. Him, Iron Man, Ma, Thor, and his mom as the Black Widow. It was all planned, and then his moms got accidentally turned into five year olds and now he was taking  _them_ trick-or-treating. Talk about a change in plans.

And they aren’t exactly the most….agreeable five year olds ever. Henry’s pretty sure he isn’t having kids ever after this experience, and is at the same immensely grateful his mom never adopted another kid. Upon informing five year old Regina what Halloween was, five year old Emma immediately made the suggestion that they go trick-or-treating as a duo. Regina, excited for the prospect of candy, (who knew his mom used to be, or knows still  _is_ , or actually  _was_ , as a grown up, a sweet-tooth?), and for a night of hanging out with her new best friend, (also weird, but also kind of cute, not that Henry would ever admit), had excitedly agreed. 

And then the horror started. Or, Emma and Regina having very familiar screaming matches over  _which_  costumes they wanted, while David fought off a headache switching between page after page on amazon. Henry had sat in the back on a chair, calmly offering new suggestions when his previous ones were done being argued over. Eventually, his resigned suggestion of  _Wicked_  caused both sets of eyes to light up, and then the two happily embraced each other as if they hadn’t been fighting for the last hour and a half.

They found Regina’s outfit without much trouble, just a simple witch’s costume and hat, and the green makeup. (Water-based, his grandma insisted.) Emma’s proved more problematic, as the original Glinda costume was pink, and Emma insisted on  _Wicked_. At this, Henry received a small glare, why oh why couldn’t he have suggested  _The Wizard of Oz?_  And so, Grandma, willing to do anything to make her temporarily five year old daughter have the best first and (hopefully) last Halloween have the best one ever, made the dress herself.

Tonight Henry has gotten the instructions to take them out for an two hours, or until 8:30, make sure they don’t eat too much of their candy, and  _don’t_  lose them in the crowds, or rather, try to make sure they don’t lose  _him_  as was their habit.

Although a part of him felt both happy and sad at their excited faces, he really, really wants his moms back. 

Nevertheless, he turns on his chest light with a grin, (being Iron Man is  _so_ awesome), and a small hand pulls on his red suit. 

"Henry! Look at me!" It’s Regina, and her face is green already, carefully painted by Grandma, and in her hand is a plastic pumpkin for candy. He has one of his own, already perched by the front door. He carefully adjusts her witch’s hat so it’s slightly lopsided and gives her a grin.

"You look pretty green, Elphie." 

She furrows her brow. “It’s  _Elphaba_ , Henry. She doesn’t like to be called Elphie.”

"Yeah, but  _Glinda_  likes to call her Elphie.”

He swears she turns a darker shade of green, and shuffles back from one foot to the other. “Well, I  _guess_.” She humphs and turns towards Ma’s old room. “Emma!! Come  _on_! It’s almost dark out!” There’s a muffled cry of  _Coming!_  And then a blue sparkle-dressed Emma comes out of the room, her hair even curlier than usual. She’s sort of grumpy, because  _she_  wanted to be Elphaba, but Regina totally pulled off this puppy-like pout, and Emma gave in. Which was  _also_  weird.

At this moment his Grandma comes into the foyer, eyes watery at the sight of her daughter. He’s sort of sad, then, because this is probably how his Ma would have looked if she had grown up with Grandma and Grandpa. His pang of sadness is cut short when Regina’s eyes widen almost comically, and she’s suddenly more bashful than he’d ever seen her.

"You look….you look really pretty, Emma."

Emma blushes and grabs her hand. “Thanks, greenie.”

"Hey!" 

Grandma mostly covers up her tearing up, and ruffles Emma’s curls, and makes Regina’s hat un-lopsided again, (Henry frowns at this), before leaning down to give both of them a hug. She then takes out her phone, and tells them to get into position for a photo. Emma leans in to pretend whisper in Regina’s ear, as was the  _Wicked_ poster, and Regina leans down so that only the brim of her hat is showing.

They take another one with Henry in the middle, contemplating on how he’s ever going to explain this photo to people, and again how strange this Halloween is, before realizing that he has  _both_  of them. No matter their current age. He has his entire family, alive, well, and this causes his heart to lift and a real genuine smile to graze his lips as camera flashes.

They’re all ushered out the door moments later, and Henry grabs both his mask and his pumpkin, before rushing after an excited Elphaba and Glinda, already running down the stairs to the first floor of the apartment building.

"And remember to listen to Henry!" Grandma calls after.

"We will!" They chorus back and run even faster away, and happy or not, this is going to be a very long night.


End file.
